


Lone wolves

by Lothiriel84



Category: NCIS, The Mentalist
Genre: Chance Meetings, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-22
Updated: 2012-08-22
Packaged: 2017-11-12 16:09:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/493134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lothiriel84/pseuds/Lothiriel84
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He considered the stranger for a while. A quiet, dignified guy in his mid-fifties – and a law enforcer most likely.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lone wolves

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MerriWyllow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MerriWyllow/gifts).



> This crossover was partly inspired by MerriWyllow's delightfully silly parody "Reductio ad Absurdum".  
> Anyway, I've always associated the tragedy in Jane's past with Gibbs's one – and that's why I felt I had to write something about it.  
> Please forgive me for my somewhat limited knowledge of the NCIS show...

He sat down at the bar and ordered an Earl Grey.  
That earned him a scornful look form the bartender – as well as a chuckle from the man sitting to his right.  
He considered the stranger for a while. A quiet, dignified guy in his mid-fifties – and a law enforcer most likely.  
“I gather you don’t appreciate tea.”  
The other man shrugged noncommittally.  
“Nobody around here drinks tea. Especially at this time of night.”  
“Any time is right for a cup of tea.”  
“Whatever.”  
“I bet you’re more the coffee type, agent…?”  
A flash of interest finally showed in the stranger’s grey eyes.  
“Gibbs. Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs.”  
“FBI?”  
“Naval Criminal Investigative Service.”  
“Sounds interesting.”  
He took a sip of his tea and nodded his approval. Despite the bartender’s contempt for the beverage, it actually tasted good enough.  
Agent Gibbs placed his now empty glass on the counter and stared at his chance companion.  
“How do you know I’m an agent?”  
“Educated guess. After all, that’s exactly what I’ve been doing for a living up to a couple of months ago.”  
“Guessing at people?”  
“I was a consultant to the California Bureau of Investigation. And before that a fake psychic.”  
Gibbs chuckled once again. “A fake psychic working with the police?”  
“That’s it. Quite ironic, don’t you think?”  
The older man furrowed his brow as if a dim memory had suddenly stirred in his mind.  
“What’s your name?”  
“Patrick Jane. Nice to meet you, by the way.”  
Gibbs’s sharp eyes focused on him more intently.  
“You’re the one who caught that infamous serial killer down in California – aren’t you?”  
Jane ran his finger over the rim of his teacup. “Yeah.”  
“What was that like?”  
“You mean sending the man that killed my wife and daughter to the electric chair? Not at all what I had been planning for him, if you have to know.”  
“Death penalty is nothing more than legalized revenge when you come to think about it.”  
A smirk hovered on Jane’s lips. “Maybe.”  
“My wife and daughter were murdered as well. Killing the man who was responsible for it didn’t make me feel any better.”  
“But you did it nonetheless.”  
“I had to. He was a Mexican drug dealer – no way he was going to stand trial.”  
“I understand.”  
Jane paused for a while before asking his next question. “What did you do after their death?”  
“I went on with my life.” A shrug. “What else was I supposed to do?”  
“Was it that easy?”  
“I never forgot them, if that’s what you’re asking. But, yes, I’ve been married three times since. It always ended with a divorce though.”  
“That’s exactly my point. You can’t really move on when your beloved ones are taken away from you.”  
Gibbs ordered another bourbon before facing him once again.  
“Who’s she?”  
“What are you talking about?”  
“The woman you’re running from.”  
“I’m not…”  
“Quit fooling yourself, sonny. There’s someone in your life – I can see it.”  
Jane tilted his head to one side. “You’re good. Not as good as I am, but quite good nevertheless.”  
“And you’re even more self-confident than DiNozzo – were that possible.”  
“Who's DiNozzo?”  
“One of my agents.”  
“I’d really like to meet your whole team. You’re not one to settle for second best – correct?”  
“We place our lives in each other’s hands on a daily basis. My colleagues have to be people whom I can trust.”  
The hint of a grin sparkled in Jane’s eyes.  
“Looks as if Lisbon’s speaking through your mouth.”  
Gibbs was now cradling his half-empty glass with a knowing smile.  
“Lisbon. Was that the name of your boss? The one that helped you catch Red John?”  
“You have an excellent memory. Do you happen to know the memory palace technique, by any chance?”  
“The memory… what?”  
“Never mind.”  
He fished a couple of bucks out of his vest pocket and made to leave.  
“Where do you think you’re going?”  
Jane frowned slightly. “Want to bust me, agent Gibbs?”  
“That would be no good with the likes of you.”  
“So what?”  
Gibbs stood up and faced him. “Call her, you idiot.”  
“Whom?”  
“Your boss. I bet she’s the only one who can talk some sense into you.”  
“She’s not my boss anymore.”  
“Good. I’ve never approved of relationships between coworkers.”  
“That would be against CBI rules anyway.”  
The other man smirked suggestively. “Looks like quitting your job might have some side benefits.”  
A full-blown grin finally appeared on Jane’s face.  
“Goodbye, agent Gibbs. Thanks for our nice little chat.”  
As he strolled out of the bar he finally dug for his cellphone and dialed a most familiar number.  
The person at the other side of the line answered almost immediately.

 


End file.
